Bloodrikye
by Hand Steroids
Summary: A prophecy was told, false, to a fool and a spy. Of course someone would be foolish enough to believe it. But when all hope is lost, what more is there but to try and to believe. Previously called Me Amoure
1. Blood Oath

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.

_-Anne McCaffery_

_All the Weyrs of Pern, pg. 400_

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1. Blood Oath

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Trelawny cackled, gin bottle in hand. Truthfully she was fully intoxicated, but this time on a job well done. Previously she would drink the night away, crying over spilt tea. No one was looking to hire a Divination Mistress, especially one that had yet to have a vision. The only person willing to hire her was trapped in prison.

She snorted at that. Grindelwald was a rather peculiar person. He had a difficult life, one plagued by misfortune and malice towards muggles that poisoned his brilliant mind. He wanted to save the world from itself. Translating basically, the more muggles tainted the blood of wizards the more diluted the magic would become. But unlike the rest of the wizarding community, Trewlany knew better than they. She also knew that Grindelwald was not insane like it was believed; her orders proved that.

A month ago she had visited the German prison in which he had been sentenced to. She was allowed visiting rights by claming she was his cousin, having been given the proper papers three weeks earlier. She was led by two high security guards to a room with two chairs and a table. Occupying the far chair was the muscular Grindelwald. His hands were handcuffed; his hair sprawled about his head in a mess of a mop. What was most shocking was his eyes.

They didn't hold the hatred they used to. Her brown eyes met his hazel ones, a shiver running down her back. His eyes had always changed colors, never the same two days in a row. Today his eyes were cat-eye yellow. She sat on the other chair as the guards stood post at the doors. They exchanged their normal greetings and she had informed him of the actions of the wizard government and Dumbledore. His eyes hardened when Dumbledore's name was mentioned.

He leaned forwarded and whispered into her ear. "Trick our manipulating lover. 'Neither can live while the other survives.'" He paused to chuckle softly, playing the part of the insane prisoner. "Get into the school and make sure you stay there." She probed at how she should complete this task. He smiled at her before shaking his head in reply. He dismissed her soon after. A teacher, why hadn't thought of that job possibility? To be able to influence the minds and inner eyes of the young would make the task more possible.

She grinned into her gin and released an insane giggle. How her lord would be so pleased to hear of her achievements. To fool a true insane man was near impossible but Grindelwald would be glad. After all it was for the greater good. When she met with Dumbledore earlier this very day she played it out to seem like a normal interview. She could feel in her gut that if she didn't seize the opportunity now she would never have the chance again.

She had taken on a foreign voice and spelled her eyes to glaze over. She rambled off what sounded like a prophecy would sound like and ended it with a dramatic gasp before canceling the spell on her eyes. She had shaken herself before asking poor Albus where she had left off. His eyes had widened, the stupid twinkle in his eyes shining brighter than normal. He interviewed her a few minutes longer before offering a position at Hogwarts. She accepted immediately.

Clearly it was easier to fool the old man than you would think and Grindelwald knew it. A maid entered her room, muttering furiously about magical bedspreads with a handful of sheets levitating in front of her. She stopped suddenly, noticing the drunken woman in the room.

The maid looked her up and down as if accessing her danger level. Trelawny grinned, her breath billowing the smell of gin. "He fell f'r it, the… stupid… ol'… Codger…" She stopped to release a frightening, manically insane burst of laughter. "How he wil'l… be… so pleas'd, how easy tis w's to fo'l n' insane man." The maid gave her a rather cautious look before shuddering and sliding out the room. As the maid left, Trewlany sat on the newly made bed. She laid back, took a long swig of the Gin. "He will… love me… now."

Her hand relaxed sending the Gin bottle to the floor. Moaning, she fell into a deep, alcohol induced sleep, dreaming about being in the arms of the one she loved.

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He knew what had happened the moment the Marauder's ward was breached. Prongs was now battling for his life and the lives of Lily and Harry. He regretted the fact that he had not taken the position James had offered. He had refused to be Potter Manor's secret-keeper in fear he would be tortured in to spilling the beans, so to say. So instead, Wormtail became secret-keeper and commended the Potters to death. That traitorous Rat!

The minute he could get these damned magical ties undone he was going to head directly to James' house and hope for the best, and expect the worst. Then he was going to _murder _Wormtail for his betrayal. Turning his attention back to the magical bands across his arms, he tried to wriggle enough to where he could reach his silver saple wand. Leaning as far as he could, he could feel his fingertips graze the smooth wood. Curling his fingers, the wand rolled into his hand. Muttering 'finally' he grasped the wood, feeling the warmth from the magical core. He had been trying to reach his wand for hours now. He supposed it was his own carelessness that had landed him in this situation. Stupid intruder bands! How could he have forgotten about his own wards?

Leaning backwards, he pushed himself into his original position. Wand in hand, he muttered a few words and flicked his wand sharply. Immediately he was released, for the bands would only release its victims if it was told to by_ his_wand. He could remember the day he walked into the wand shop in Knockturn Alley. The young woman who ran the shady store had a wondrous way with wood and animals. His own wand was made of fairly rare elements. The silver saple was grown in Greenland as was the provider of his wand's core. Mrs. Calyor, the woman in the shop, had coaxed an extremely rare ice phoenix out of its nest to ask for a tail feather. She walked away with a wounded pride, several bites and some scratches but immensely proud for she would be one of the few wand makers to use a feather from an ice phoenix. He, Sirius, treasured the silver wand as his heart.

He shrugged off the bands and leaped the stairs three at a time. Stopping shortly at his room, he slammed the door open. His footsteps echoed loudly on the hard wood floor. He tore apart his closet's doors before shedding his thin house robes for a much thicker traveling cloak. Twirling around, he stalked out the room and was outside before you could say quidditch.

The air was brisk as the door slammed behind him. Swearing softly, he tugged his cloak around himself tightly as he mounted his motorcycle. Driving the clutch, he injected the engine and turned the key.

The engine hummed to life as he pressed the gas petal. The motorcycle pulled out onto the magical runway. Once the cycle was churning along at a steady pace, he flicked an electric blue switch. Lurching harshly, the bike launched into the air. The bike glided roughly for a few moments before leveling out and taking a more peaceful pace.

He hadn't flow for more than two minutes before he finally put two and two together. He would not be able to reach the Manor in time. A fleeting thought struck an idea. He had never apparated in the air but now was a fine time to try. Lifting his wand, he concentrated on Potter Manor before twisting the bike around. He felt an uncomfortable tug on his nasal before shifting between the in-between of the space-time continuum. He felt the cool October air rush into his face and he knew that he had succeeded.

He had arrived above the sidewalk in Godric's Hollow on his motorcycle, which was still fully intact and running. Tipping the handles slightly, he drove the bike onto the cement before cutting off the engine. He hadn't dared look at the Manor yet for fear of what he already knew what was there. He swung his leg over the bike and took a deep breath. Looking up he could feel his insides churning.

What he found when he dared to look up at Potter Manor was heart-wrenching. The first immediate thing seen was the dark mark twisting and churning in the night sky. An unwanted shiver ran down his back. He mentally readied himself for what he knew was awaiting him inside the Manor. His gaze drifted from the dark mark to the Manor itself. It was in ruins. The entire right side of magical house was ripped from its foundation. Cautiously moving forward, Sirius tapped his wand on the cast iron gates.

It opened willingly, granting him entrance. He rushed inside and scurried up the path leading towards the where the front door would have been. Tenderly he stepped through the doorway, into the hall. Seeing as how the left side of the house was still standing, Voldemort and his death eaters must have destroyed the door. Dreading what he knew he was going to find, he soundlessly stepped up the stairwell towards Harry's and Lily's and James' rooms were. He stopped abruptly when he saw a motionless figure in robes. The body was in front of Harry's room.

He fell to his knees at James' side. He knew that James would have been murdered. In fact he was murdered by Lord Voldemort himself. Pounding a fist onto James' chest, he willed his Gryffindor friend to life. He was crying now, something which he rarely did. A tear fell and landed on James' shirt before he could muster the strength to enter the room which Prongs, or should I say James, was protecting.

Sorrow was plastered to his face like a mask when he saw Lily motionless in front of a crib. Once more he found himself on the floor. He grasped Lily's delicate hand as if to comfort her and found she was still warm. She must have been murdered less than twenty minutes ago. His other hand fell to her shoulder. Softly he shook her, as if trying to wake her from a deep sleep. Sighing, he abandoned the attempt that he knew was pointless. He stood and turned to look within the crib to see a motionless Harry. But instead he found one sleeping boy with an etching of a lighting bolt on his forehead.

"Sweet Merlin!" the words were whispered out of his mouth before he could think.

James son was alive! He bent over and scooped Harry out of the crib. With the one year old in his arms he turned to James and Lily.

"I made a Blood Oath when I promised that I would raise your son as my own."

A gold mist materialized and drifted over the four bodies in the house. He knew that in order for the babe within his arms to be raised as such his name and appearance would have to be changed. Well, at least until he came of age. Then he would be able to choose whether he wanted to keep his new image or the image of one Harry James Potter.

"Harry James Potter, from this day forward until you come of age you shall be known as Damien Velon Black." He muttered the words loud and clearly with a deep voice.

The golden mist fell over the babe, now Damien once Harry. Sirius imagined how Damien would appear, not really basing it off of any specific person. Before the mist had lifted he remembered Amaya and made her features the base of Damien's appearance. The babe's features shifted. The most noticeable change was the placement of the ugly scar left upon his brow by Lord Voldemort. Now it was placed over his heart, where it could be easily hidden. He would have removed it but unfortunately it was laced together with dark magic and he couldn't tamper with it without bodily damage to both him and Damien.

The gold mist surged and flew into each of the participating bodies. Sirius glanced warily at the dead Lily and James. "I promise to avenge your deaths."

He gripped Damien tightly and stepped over Lily and James. Damn be it if Damien would not be allowed to have something of his birth parents. He gently tugged on the handle to James and Lily's room. He felt uncomfortable, as if he was intruding on something special. Well that was true. The bed was slightly disturbed, as if they were just about to get in bed before going to Harry. The room itself was in fashionable hues of crimson, a touch of Lily. A nightstand was at the head of the bed. It held a lamp and a bookmarked novel. A dresser was pushed against one of the walls. A small pearlesent box was resting on a shelf on the mahogany dresser. It was in fact, a jewelry box.

He unlatched the catch and propped the lid up. Inside were several rings, about ten necklaces and four bracelets varying from gold to silver to ebony. He pulled out one of the rings. This ring in specific was treasured by Lily. It was engraved with a snake and a panther. The snake had a red ruby for an eye and the panther had an emerald green. The panther was ebony traced in gold, every little detail outlined in the silver of the ring. It was a man's ring, passed down from generation to generation.

Sirius moved Damien to one arm as he looked at the ring. He now couldn't get the thought out of his head that Lily was not just a muggle-born witch but a descendant of a powerful wizarding family, perhaps through a squib's offspring. He hooked the ring around his little finger and ran his fingers on the bottom of the box. He traced the outer edges of the box first, working his way slowly and efficiently towards the center. His fingers came to a halt at the touch of a small lip, barely noticeable but yet, there.

He could not muster enough energy to smile at his discovery; the deaths of James and Lily were too strong. But he curled his fingers, his nails just long enough to pull the lip up. He reached inside the small conclave with two fingers. He could feel the harshness of cold metal as he lifted the contents out. He pulled his hand out of the box and closed the pearly lid.

He tilted his head forward and his black hair drifted into is face, his eyes looking over his find. In his hand was a simple gold chain with a catch at the ends. The other thing was probably the most significant of the two for it was the Potter's Gringotts key. The gold glittered even without light. He clenched his hand tight before shoving his hand into his pocket to place the three treasures into the robes.

Blinking softly he turned his head slowly to the closet where he knew James' possessions were held. He reached the walk-in closet within four steps, not really as he was quite tall. It was more like three long strides. The doors automatically opened for him, recognizing his magical patterns. He stepped inside and walked to the rear of the clothing closet. There he found the door which he knew held all of James possessions that were treasured beyond all reason. Well, at least in item form, he did truly love and treasure his family or he wouldn't have died for them.

He tapped his wand on the panel of wall and watched it slide open. There laid the Marauders Map, the invisibility cloak and a golden snitch. Apparently James had refused to allow Dumbledore to take his cloak the night before. Smirking slightly he was proud of James for that because Dumbledore seemed too… words can't describe it, just manipulative.

He gathered the cloak into one of his larger pockets, letting the edge of it hang out so that he could use it when needed. The map was next. If anything, it was the most significant piece of work that they had created in their Hogwarts school days. He pocketed the map before fingering the snitch. Its golden surface was smooth and rough at the same time. It was engraved by what must have been magic for no knife could carve it. He decided to leave the snitch; it would not aid Damien at all.

Taking a deep breath he tried to get the last smell of James and Lily that he could, knowing that he would never smell anything as such again. Perhaps it was he, reluctance to let them go, that made him do it. Sighing, he took Damien in both hands and made his way past James' pale body down the stairs. He suddenly got a fleeting thought; the invisibility cloak. What if Dumbledore sent someone to retrieve 'Harry'.

He whipped out his wand after putting Damien in his left arm and transfigured one of the sheets on the crib upstairs into a baby shape that took the shape and appearance of the Harry that was no more. He did all this downstairs. How much his magical ability had grown since school years where he had difficulty turning a tea cup into a rat. It was exactly how wine aged. If it was sharp and bitter when it was young then it was only going to improve with age.

His eyes were dark as he draped the cloak from James' room over himself and Harry. It was for the best. He walked out the front door and down the pathway where he could see his motorbike still standing. At least no one tried to vandalize his property this time. Last time he had taken out his motorcycle he had to scrub muggle spray paint off by hand. It had taken about three weeks to remove all the traces of the paint. He could still feel the pain of having to hand scrub it. He internally winced at the memory of the pain in his hands after that chore.

He cast a silencing charm and a disillusionment charm on the bike and swung his leg over and sat on the leather seat, then took off the invisibility cloak and cast another disillusionment charm upon himself and Damien. His heart wrenched as he shoved the cloak into his pocket.

The leather was cold and damp with midnight dew, but he could care less. He twisted the key and with a violent shake, the bike was humming soundlessly. He pressed the accelerate petal and zoomed down the street, knowing that no one would be able see him and his bike zooming down the road. He flipped the blue switch to inject the engine with magical fuel to allow flying. Within a minute the bike, Damien and Sirius were in the air.

Before he could apparate to his own house he saw the looming shape of Hagrid, apparently ordered to check the Manor. Smiling sadly he knew that Harry Potter no longer existed. And with that, the bike and its riders zipped into the in-between.

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_A/N: Ok, I wasn't going to post this yet... but I felt the need to post something._

_I would appreciate some criticism. Good, bad, I truly just want to know what people think. And... I think I am going to bring Regulus into this story. ^^,_

_-Hand Steroids_


	2. Blood and Memories

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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He Thinks to much. Such men are dangerous.

_-William Shakespeare_

_Julius Cesar_

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2. Blood and Memories

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A tall, slender woman walked down the hallway, heels clicking on the marble floor. She was wearing a deep blue skirt and jacket suit matching the exact shade of her eyes. Just as she was about to push the doors open when a rather short, dumpy woman stopped her.

"Amaya, hold on I've got you an invite here from the President." Amaya turned quickly her white-blonde hair flipping around her shoulders.

"Thanks Angie." The woman, Angie, whipped back into her office and came back out with a parchment style letter.

"Yours was the first to arrive. Seeing as how owls have been banned from the hallways, they all come to me."

Angie smiled, her brown hair accenting her face nicely. "See you on Monday. We have some wild hippogriffs in Dorchester County that needs to be sorted out."

Amaya smiled, "Sure, lunch same time on Thursday?"

"Yes of course."

The two women said their goodbyes and parted ways outside the building. The click clack of heels on cement made a harsh tempo as Amaya climbed up the stairs of the parking garage to her car.

She unlocked the car and placed the key in the ignition, listening to the compact car hum to life. She placed her purse and her files, letter on top of these, in the passenger seat and backed out of the parking space.

She pulled out of the parking garage, paid her fee, and pulled out onto a cobbled road. It was one of the many roads of Downtown Charleston that was still cobbled. It provided the city with a sense of age, having been one of the major sea ports when it was still a young British colony.

She navigated the roads and traffic, passing the market and the delicious little candy shop with Italian ice cream. She turned onto the interstate. She gripped the steering wheel as began to feel a steady sense of dread. Her stomach clenched, and she felt like she needed to regurgitate her lunch.

Blinking, Amaya drove on, pulling off at her exit. The next ten minutes she drove in silence, listening to a song on the radio.

Tapping her fingers in rhythm, she found herself thinking about England. She stared down the highway, thinking about lost friends.

A clap of thunder snapped her out of her daze, sending her into a flustered frenzy. Amaya shook her head and concentrated on driving in the now pouring autumn rain. The wind was howling around her car as she pulled off at the Summerville Exit. The swap, swap, swap of the windshield wipers droned in false harmony with the radio station, oblivious to the change in melodies.

Passing Wassamassaw Community, she frowned at the dreary expanse of land. _The worst place I ever saw;_that was what Wassamassaw means in one of the various variations of Native American language. It was the largest word spelt the same way backwards, and home of a magical beings sanctuary.

Driving past the magic-laced place, into the Sandridge side of Ridgeville, she pulled into her driveway, feeling the wards of her property pass over her car. Shivering slightly from the sensation, she parked in the garage, the door sliding shut behind her. Taking the files and her purse, she slid out of the car and walked into her house.

The house itself was of simple beauty, marking it of new-ancient architecture. Furnished in homey upholstery, it was a nice quiet place to come home to after a long days work.

Amaya placed her keys on a table by the door, kicking the door shut at the same time. After slipping off her shoes, she made her way to her office, to place the files in their right folders.

Running her fingers through her hair she sighed, sitting in the chair behind a mahogany desk. Amaya looked at the letter with a contempt annoyance.

Picking it up, she popped the wax seal, opening the English style parchment.

_Amaya De Frayne_

_Head of Carolina Magical Beings Protection_

_29 October 1981_

_Ms. Amaya De Frayne, _

_You are cordially invited to the annual Ball, hosted by U.M.A. The Ball will take place December fifteenth of the current year. Black tie is required. Respond accordingly with your acceptance as soon as proper. _

_Sincerely,_

_Melenoy Kistrival_

_U.M.A. Secretary _

_Sylverien Westfall_

_President of U.M.A._

Amaya cast the letter on the desk top before leaning back and closing her eyes. Damned government, how could anyone stay away from politics?

Sighing, Amaya held the bridge of her nose, trying to hold off a headache. Something was wrong and it wasn't from bad food or a long days work.

Jolting upright from chair she pulled open her desk drawer, scrambling around inside for something. A moment later she extruded a mirror, glowing a pale red. Amaya whispered her name into its face, and a moment latter found herself looking at the face of her old friend.

"Sirius, what is wrong?" Sirius's face was a mask, showing none of the former cheerfulness that it had always had. The image in the mirror blinked.

"Amaya, Jame… and…" He stuttered out the few words, enough for Amaya to know what happened. "No! Oh Sirius, how?" She held her hand to her mouth, in shock.

Sirius just shook his head. Amaya could feel a tear falling down her face. "Harry also?" All Sirius would do would shake his head.

"I am coming right now, where are you?" Sirius looked at her startled. "No Amaya, you must not come back here, not yet." He paused slightly as he adjusted his mirror. "No, can I come to you in America?"

Amaya stared at him. "Of course Sirius, when are you coming?" Sirius looked around him. "Now if you wouldn't mind." She nodded and Sirius blew her a kiss.

She whispered her name into the mirror to disable it as Sirius disabled his. She leapt from the chair she had fallen into at one point or another during the mirror conversation, to get one of the guest bedrooms ready. Opening the door down the hallway from her office she placed some towels in the bathroom and made sure necessities, such as toilet paper, was fully stocked.

The room was in order by the time she heard the hum of the motorcycle, and the thump as it landed on the driveway. She ran out to the garage, opening it so he could park. Sirius drove into the garage, covered in robes and water repellant charms.

"Sirius, I am so glad you are safe." Amaya hugged him and realized that he had something in his arms. "Sirius, what did you bring?"

"Lets get inside; I will explain it to you." The guarded look in Sirius's eyes made her agree without complaint. Normally she would have pestered him until he told her outright but when she saw the look in his eyes she knew she shouldn't.

"Go inside and you will tell me over a cup of coffee."

Sirius walked inside, taking off his rain cloak and placing it on a hook. Amaya pushed him in the direction of the kitchen. Sirius sat down at the table while Amaya started up the coffee maker. Turning around she leaned against the counter. "So..?"

Sirius moved his arms. A child of about fifteen months with soft black hair was in his arms. Amaya raised her hand to her mouth speechless. "Si-.." Sirius blinked wildly and clutched the sleeping child to him.

"Amaya, listen to me. This was Harry Potter." Sirius started at Amaya, desperately searching for acceptance. "I made a Blood Oath to James that I would take care of Harry as my own." He paused searching for words. "I..- I, the Oath requires you to actually change the identity of the child and… well, he is Damien Velon Black now."

Amaya blinked, her eyes wide. "I.. bu- Oh Sirius." Her shoulders sagged. "You need someone to help you, don't you?" Sirius looked down, guilty. "Very well, we need to gain the official paperwork."

The blonde walked down the hall to her office. Sirius followed with Damien and a cup of black coffee. Amaya scrambled around in one of the filing cabinets and produced a manila folder. Moving the paperwork off her desk, she dispersed the documents on the mahogany.

"These are the records from the birth of my son. By law I, as legal blood parent have the right to change my child's name within the first three years of his life." Sirius gave her a startled look. "Since when did you have a child?"

She looked up at Sirius. "Since that time when we got drunk enough to be under the influence. Normally I can handle my drink far better than the average being but someone," she glared at Sirius, "kept refilling my glass when I wasn't looking."

Sirius smirked at her for a few moments. Recognition dawned on his face as he interpreted her words. "You mean…, I am a father?" Amaya rose an eyebrow.

"Yes Sirius, I will tell you about it later. Now let us get back to the task at hand. I shall change his name." She pulled a dagger out of her desk and removed it from its sheaf. Sirius whistled at the blade. "Obsidian hmn? Beautiful craftsmanship." Amaya silently snarled as she tore the dagger across the top of her arm.

Blood welted from the self-inflicted wound and she shook her arm, watching the drops fall on the documentation. She wiped the blade on the parchment and placed it back in its sheaf. She lowered her head to the paper and placed her lips in the blood. A bright blood red glow surrounded her as she finished the ritual. She lifted her head to watch the writing change, her lips painted with her blood.

The writing on the document began to move, siphoning the blood into the ink. Amaya took a blood red quill (the only one on the desk) and wrote Damien Velon Black into the blood.

Straighting herself she blew on the parchment, making the change permanent. The blood sunk into the letters, and the writing grew still and dry. The red glow materialized into the form of a young child, almost identical to child in Sirius's arms. The glowing child transformed into a small wolf and leapt into Damien.

The child stirred, opening his eyes. The pale blue eyes stared at the ceiling as the red glow made its way through his veins. Damien shivered as the glow dimmed, leaving Sirius and Amaya in the dark.

"Amaya, what just happened?" Amaya smiled as she licked the blood off her lips. "I just made him my child. Because I am not a 'pureblooded' wizard, my child is not required to have regular checkups until the age of seven. Damien has acquired some of my dormant magical traits. That was the wolf you saw."

Sirius looked down at Damien, brushing his black hair from his face. "Amaya, thank you."

* * *

"Dumbledore, Professor Dumbledore! The Potters, they… they were murdered!" The husky voice of the half-giant fell into a self-contained sob. He dabbed at his eyes with a cloth, avoiding his wire-like hair.

Dumbledore, who was wearing ridiculously hideous violet robes, lifted his wand to repair the door that the large man before him destroyed. His blue eyes were twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "Hagrid please sit down, but due pray, tell me what you saw."

Hagrid shuddered, grasping his pink umbrella tightly. He took the offered seat as he started describing what he saw. "The house was destroyed. James a'd Lily, ev'n po'r Harry. They was good people. Di'dn't deserve death."

Dumbledore sat down, staring at Hagrid. "Hagrid, would you allow me to look at your memory of the house? It would better help the understanding of an old man."

Hagrid nodded and Dumbledore drew the memory from the man. The silver wisp of memory was placed within a crystal bottle, which Dumbledore corked and placed within a pocket of his robe. "I am sorry to have to do this my fine friend."

Dumbledore raised his wand and cast _Oblivate_on the giant. The man slouched in his chair before awakening. Hagrid looked around the office, unsure of what happened. His gruff voice voiced his concerns. "Headmaster, what happened?"

Dumbledore shook his head, eyes twinkling with radiance. "We were just discussing the grounds Hagrid, do not worry, the forest will remain a haven to those who need it."

Hagrid blinked before nodding. "Al'rigt sir, I best be back to me house." The large man made his way to the office door and down the stairs. Dumbledore sat, staring at the door until the footsteps of the man could no longer be heard.

"Thank you Hagrid, I could not have done this without you." Dumbledore fingered the memory bottle, which he labeled as _Potter House, 1981, Hagrid_.

Watching Hagrid's memory, Dumbledore's original worry did not pass. The prophecy did not pertain to the Potters, that was obvious. But how Voldemort was able to get the location was more depressing. Sirius, having been the Potters secret keeper would be headed off to Askaban soon, and with this being a time of war, a trial was not required.

Putting the memory back in its bottle, he swept to his fireplace, a pinch of green dust in his hands. Throwing the dust into flames he stepped inside, careful to keep the few remaining flares of orange flame from lapping at his robes. "Ministry of Magic" and he disappeared from the office in a blasé.

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_A/N: Here is the new chapter. The outline I have is very, choppy so I am working through the kinks right now. _

_-Hand steroids_


	3. Blood of Magic, Phoenix and Dragon

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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_Magic Works in mysterious ways. Sometimes she cooperates, other times not so much. Forgive me, but I think you need to learn your manners._

_-Author Unknown_

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3. Blood of Magic, Phoenix and Dragon

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In Dumbledore's office, a vibrant fire-hued bird ruffled its wings before taking flight. In a flash of flame and smoke, the bird vanished, leaving the room dark and depressing. The silver objects loitering surfaces of the office gleamed in the dank moonlight.

Halfway across the world, a bird appeared in a ball of flames. Feathers adjusting slightly to the change in air pressure, the elegant avian swooped low to the ground in a graceful arch. The bird trilled, a musical sound, and vanished into the stone of a near by ledge. The last tail feather vanished, but not as before where the bird was consumed by flame.

Passing through the stone, the bird hovered before back-winging onto an ebony perch. There were six azure, crimson and sable perches, none of which were occupied. At the head of the arrangement were three sets of perches, in the hues of ivory, silver and copper.

Within seconds, more birds of similarities to the fire bird arrived, in exceedingly different methods. First came those of earth, who settled on the crimson perches. They traveled from the ground, their feathers slick, more like a cat's peltage than feathers. The Embassy of Terra was quite handsome, with emerald green feathers conjoined with brown and copper hued feathers. The avians' feathers were shorter than the first avian, but sharper than a dwarf's dagger.

The second to arrive was the Embassy of Fire. They arrived in through the stone that the original avian arrived through, flame still surrounding their rather long feathers. The back winged onto the azure perches as the next Embassy arrived.

The Water Embassy arrived in a sprinkling of mist, their rich sapphire feathers glittering with water. Unlike those of the other Embassies, their feathers were designed rather like fish fins, but obviously feathers. They landed on the sable hued perches, water surrounding their necks.

When the lower perches were filled, the Elders arrived. Of the Ice, Light and Shadow Embassies, they were the rarest of the six species. The two avian of Shadow arrived at the cover of darkness, landing on the pair of ivory perches on the far left. Black feathers intertwined with rich amethyst feathers. Their eyes were an occult hue, a pale pearly amethyst.

Next to them was the Ice Embassy. They were remarkable creatures, of silver-white feathers. One of the two ice avians had a pale gray under-wing pattern. They had pale blue eyes, reflecting their feathers within their pale depths. They perched on the two silver perches, resting in between the Shadows and the Lights.

The Light Embassy was of peculiar creation. They had pale yellow feathers laced with gold. Their eyes were a rainbow of colors, changing every couple of seconds or so.

The larger of the two from the Ice Embassy spoke first. "We are gathered here today under the will of the Father Air. Events have been occurring that must be handled in accordance."

The birds muttered, several showing a barely controlled anger. One of the Water females ruffled her feathers. Her voice rang out over the murmurs. "The wand-wielders have caused yet another unbalance within the flow of destined path of life." She narrowed her eyes. "It must be stopped!"

The Terra Embassy nodded in agreement as the meeting hall fell silent at her words. The male Ice bobbed agitatedly. "Daini, as you know, we all agree that it must be stopped, but are we willing to pay the price?" Daini narrowed her pearly eyes.

"Who are you," snapped Daini, "to question me about the costly price that I was willing to pay centuries ago?" The water phoenix lifted her head, ruffling her azure and turquoise feathers.

The ice phoenix clicked his beak. "Daini, do not speak ill of the Yatiel Accordance. It was and frankly still is the only thing that prevents the capture and destruction of our kindred and ash."

This aroused many clicking of beaks and a few muffled inappropriate choice of words. The female Light phoenix hummed a few notes and waited as the commotion died down. "Etiri," The phoenix gave the male Ice phoenix a sharp glare, "You know as well as any of us that the Accordance hinders us from completing Lady Mani's will."

The phoenixes shifted uneasily on their perches. Etiri clicked his beak sharply in annoyance. "Lady Mani created us to guide our world. Without us, the world would be locked within its own shackles, as it is now." The Light phoenix glanced from phoenix to phoenix before resting her gaze on one. "Fawkes is the only bond that keeps us from joining the Dark God's realm. Because he was tied by ancient magic, the Accordance could not recognize the bond."

Fawkes shifted uncertainly on his ebony perch. "Telkiení, as was argued at the last meeting, I can remember little from the times of the bonding. All I know is that I must find the one with the blood of the Griffin, yet for reasons I know not."

One of the Terra phoenixes cocked his head slightly and jeered at Fire phoenix. "If Laymon was here there wouldn't have been a problem with memory. He wouldn't have allowed this to have happened."

The Terra phoenix screeched indignantly as he was struck by the talons of the female Shadow phoenix. "Korida, restrain yourself. Laymon is honored for having sacrificed what he did for us. No shame may come upon Laymon or Fawkes for events that we had no hold over."

Korida ruffled his feathers before glaring at the female Shadow. Etiri clicked his talons irritably against his perch. "Farli," he directed towards the Shadow, "what do you suggest we do?"

Farli clicked her beak. "Fawkes should be allowed twelve winters to find the one of Griffin blood before we take action. The world is in turmoil around us, times are changing. We must remember the old ways, strengthen ourselves for battle, and learn the forbidden arts." Her voice rang through out the hollowed hall.

"Farli, you have been graced with the sight by Magic herself. Do you see this happening?" One of the Terra phoenixes murmured softly. Farli narrowed her amethyst eyes. "The future can never be accurate until it has happened. There is no more truth in what I say than what is false. Every move, every word, every thought changes the path of future into a labyrinth of roads, undecipherable and incomprehensible."

A silence fell over the assembly. The phoenix, Farli, closed her eyes for a few moments. "What I said is true, but most paths that I see lead to a battle of change. We must be prepared." Her sharp, yet beautiful voice cut off sharply.

Etiri clicked his beak. "We shall adjourn and prepare. We meet again in twelve winters to decide the course of action best taken."

The phoenixes, some smug, others irate, left the hall in a flurry of mist, fire and light. Fawkes remained still, pondering on the events to come.

Solemnly shaking his plumed head, he pushed off the perch and flame-flashed away.

Fawkes flame-flashed back to Dumbledore's office, slightly depressed. The old man was not what he seemed, and his sense of coy assurance. He hated the way the old man's magic washed over him, making his feathers feel gritty and used. He sometimes feared that the man rather siphoned off his aura, as he felt weaker after these sessions. If only he was not bound by magic to stay with Headmaster until he found the one of Griffin blood.

Fawkes shrugged and landed on his perch. He picked at his feathers with his beak, revealing a molted feather. Slightly abolished, he burst into flame, a scalding fire so hot that the very bones within his body were consummated to ash. It was perhaps two seconds after the flame died down that he reemerged from the ash refreshed and thinking anew.

He tested his new feathers and decided that they were strong enough to bear weight. With six upward strokes of young wings, he managed to rest on his perch, his youngling body stretching, becoming accustomed to the air pressure.

He had never had to be re-born so often that he could remember. He had just flamed two months previous. Fawkes snapped his beak, eager the day would come when the Griffin blood heir came.

* * *

All across the world, dragons began to fall into a slumber. They became a mere husk of themselves, not even waking when Dragon Handlers came and rolled the females' eggs away for 'proper' hatching. It was a world-wide phenomena and had many scholars tugging at their beards and glasses in a perplexed state.

The wild dragons of Russia, Africa, North and South America and Asia began to find themselves in a hibernating state, one not felt for at least a century. The magic they caused, what little they could use at this time of age, became stilted, as if it had no life.

The meeting of phoenixes caused their larger cousins to project themselves into a spirit plane, one where dragons have conversed and fought for thousands of years.

The elders began to arrived slowly, the confined dragons first, the free spirit dragons after. They argued for days, over things that had happened over the past century. It took a solid three weeks to arrive at the current problem of the world, and the meeting delicately turned to a dance of wit and word.

Tempers were raised, and a few egos were charred. None the less, they agreed with the Phoenix Assembly, to prepare for battle and war, and learn the ancient ways, or what was left of it.

A month and a half after All Hollow's Eve, the dragons returned from their hibernation, determined and focused.

One dragon in particular, by the name of Horaniou became rather disturbed, for the stone he had created nearly a million years previous became active. He shuddered at the thought of his magic in the hands of another. Yet he knew that it would be in safe hands until his soul-bond found it in his hands.

Out of a disagreement with the Dwarfs, he was conned into making the Dragon Solo. It contained his soul and his magic, forcing him to live beyond his years. He never aged, never wilted, he only waited.

He was foolish to have been tricked into making it, but he was wiser now. He had hundreds of thousands of years to learn and that was what he did. He was not bound by the Yatiel Accordance, which bound his kin's magic. He learned, practiced and now began teaching the magic and history needed by the dragons.

The Dragon Solo was a beautiful gem, an elegant sapphire colour. It was bound by silver clasps, of Dwarfish make. Once in the hands of his soul-bond, it would activate fully, and then they would be whole.

The side effects of the Dragon Solo had also yet to be determined, but the after effect should be magnificent.

Horaniou felt feeling of anticipation around his seven hearts. He soon would be complete.

* * *

_A/N: Well, another chapter. I found this chapter lacking, and I wish I had further embellished on the Elder Dragon Council. _

_I am not particular to this chapter, although, Horaniou is new to the plotline I have embedded in my head. I rather like him and the phoenix Farli. _

_-Hand Steroids_


	4. Blood Trial

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

_If you are to lie to a god, and somtimes it's fair useful, do it with the truth. They smell lies on two-leggers, or they see it, or whatever it is they do. But if all you're telling them is whatever part of your lie that is truthful, they'll accept it. Gods don't see what's always in our minds. Mayhaps they'd go mad if they knew everything we think as we think it - I know I would. Besides, motals were granted the right to make our own choices when we were shaped. So if a god's got no reason to be suspicious, he won't enter your mind to find that you've only spoked hapf the story._

_-Tricksters choice, page 329_

_Tamara Pierce_

* * *

4. Blood Trials

* * *

The dark gloom of the complex waned as the candles were lit by the strangers. The sharp august breeze cut into the stale air from the opening of the door, disturbing loose papers on the table.

Sirius shut the door roughly after Amaya stepped through, waving his wand to completely light the complex. When seeing wasn't an issue, he lifted his wand and reassured the wards. Motioning to Amaya, he led her to the kitchen.

"Be careful what you touch, I have wards set up all over the place. They are right damn touchy though." Amaya gave him a brisk nod, before preparing the coffee maker.

After pouring water into the maker she clicked it on before leaning against the counter. She smiled lightly at Sirius. "Go get what you need. The Brits might find you guilty of something and lock you up in Azkaban. And with the country at a state of war, you may not even get the decency of a trial."

Sirius shivered. "Better dead than Azkaban," he muttered before walking up the stairs, casting summoning spells.

Amaya tapped her foot on the floor as Sirius gathered his belongings. She poured herself a steaming cup of black coffee, grimacing at the taste of the British variety.

She tapped her fingers repeatedly on the countertop, stopping every now and then to examine the ring on her finger in the light. It was a beautiful engagement ring, made of dwarf silver. The gems were arranged in a beautiful display of diamonds and sapphires.

She sipped on the coffee, contemplating what they were to do. If anyone found out about Damien, they were screwed. Damned Brits. They always complicated things to an unbearable amount. There is no wonder American wizards find the English wizards and witches barbaric.

Amaya looked up as Sirius came running down the hallway. "Amaya, get down now!"

Amaya abandoned the cup of coffee and crouched down next to the table. Within seconds a large blast sounded and four government officials were armed and ready in the kitchen.

"Sirius Black, you are under arrest for the murder of the Potter family."

Sirius looked dismayed as the Auror spoke.

"Come quietly; we are prepared to use unquestionable force to take you in." The Auror snarled and cast a spell at Sirius. Sirius found himself in magical bindings, unable to move. Amaya snarled as one of the other Aurors came in her direction.

"Boss, what 'bout her? Do we take her in?" The first Auror turned around to examine Amaya as another of his comrades finished securing Sirius.

"We are going to have to. Protocol." Amaya stood gracefully to her feet as two of the Aurors began to approach her. "You have no right to take me. I am not a citizen of Britain, therefore your laws have no effect upon me." She raised her wands when the Aurors did not stop their approach.

"Miss, please come quietly. We won't hurt you." Amaya glared at the Brits with hatred. "There is a reason why I left Britain in the first place. Bloody Brits." She pronounced each word with a perfect British accent.

One of the Aurors cast a spell at her which she deflected quickly. It seemed to irritate the auror who then started casting more spells and charms. Amaya only sneered at the wizard with disdain. "I thought you were going to take me in? Hmn… It appears I was wrong. I had heard about the Ministry hiring incapable fools. I thought it was just rumor, but you've gone and proven it wrong."

The first auror who had started casting curses at her was being restrained by a co-worker but the other two cast simultaneously a stunning spell. She was able to prevent the contact of one but not the other.

Amaya stooped, and groaned. She fell to her knees and slowly found herself on the floor of Sirius's kitchen before the world was forced black.

* * *

"You are being charged with assisting the murderer of the Potters and resisting an order from an auror." The voice was hazy and muffled as her head cleared. She wanted a cup of coffee, bad.

"You are to be administered Veritaserum to obtain knowledge of the events that took place on October 31st and November 3rd." Amaya blinked, the torch light harsh on her eyes. She was tied, rather chained, to a chair in the middle of an interrogation room.

She saw a man prowl up to her and forced her mouth open. He poured the truth serum down her throat and backed away.

The man who was had spoken earlier, of whom she vaguely recognized as a mister Barty Crouch, began to ask her questions.

"What is your name?"

Amaya fluttered her eyelashes softly, looking up at the man. "Amaya DeFrayne, by legal authorities."

There were mutters of suspicion that arouse from the assembled. A witch spoke up. "Give us your birth name."

Amaya, although the serum was affecting her body in a way she didn't like, sneered, something which few people had the control to be able to do. She turned her head to look at this witch that spoke, her blonde hair sweeping around her shoulders.

"If you must know, Capriana Malfoy."

There were outraged roars from her admission. Many of the court turned sharp glares upon her. She raised a perfect eyebrow at the glares.

"When did you change your name?" Barty Crouch had spoken up sharply.

"When I was eleven, right before I entered Hogwarts."

Dumbledore who had yet to stop his small smile, blinked, but his eyes remained ever sparkling behind those half-moon glasses.

"In what relation to Sirius Black do you have currently?"

Amaya narrowed her eyes as she curled her fingernails sharply on the chair. "I am his fiancée."

There was a rather subtle silence at that statement. "Did Sirius Black betray the Potters in anyway?"

"No. The only way he betrayed them was by not taking the position as Secret Keeper."

Dumbledore rose from his seat. "I assure you, I was the one who cast the Fidilus charm and Sirius Black indeed took his vows."

Amaya glanced at Dumbledore. His had a slight smile on his face, but seeing as how he rarely had a different expression, even in these dreary times, it was nothing unusual.

The court exchanged a few whispered words. Barty Crouch silenced the court with a sharp jab on his desk with his gavel. "The accused has clarified under Veritaserum that she was in no way involved with the murder of the Potters. All charges are to be dropped immediately."

A sharp looking man; he was tall with sandy blonde hair and pale green eyes stood up. "The fact still stands that she was found with Sirius Black and resisted a direct order from an Auror." There were several nods from the surrounding members of the court.

Amaya narrowed her eyes as she glared at the man. "As you know, I-"

"Silence, you have not been given the right to speak." Crouch turned an unusual hue of scarlet, pale almost like a pale red-pink color. His hat was disheveled against his agitated verbal assault. His mustache was trimmed annoyingly lopsided.

Amaya parched her lips together, annoyed. The man with the sandy blonde hair stood standing. "Why did you resist an order from a ministry official?"

Amaya shook her head lightly. "I am not under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic or its laws. I am a citizen of United Magical America and I will not stand for this barbaric treatment."

Crouch looked towards the man who had given her the truth serum. He nodded at the look the man sent him. "As you are still under the effects of Veritaserum everything you said is to be taken into account for your innocence."

Amaya judged the court, seeing the looks of disdain and suspicion. "All vote for innocence and cleared of all charges."

Amaya held her breath as members of the court raised their hands. Several members who voted against looked on with caring what happened to her.

"It is official. Amaya Defrayne, you are cleared of all charges."

The man who gave her the truth serum walked over and gave her the antidote before unchaining her. She stood, rubbing her wrists sharply. "You have made an error with your treatment. If I have any say, sooner or later you will have reform."

She was led to the door by two aurors, who handed her wand back to her. With a hand on her arm the smaller of the two aurors guided her towards a platform. "State your destination."

"Office of International Communications, UMA" The platform whirled and she could no longer see the aurors standing in front of her. The platform took her to the OIC surprisingly and she shuddered as the wind twirled around her skirts.

"Develin, we have some problems."

Six hours later, standing in her southern home, she mused over the events. She was left with a child, a fiancée facing prison and international affairs. Fate seemed to like her.


End file.
